


Love/War

by whyyesitscar



Category: Skins (UK)
Genre: F/F, post 4x08
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-06
Updated: 2010-04-06
Packaged: 2019-08-20 07:17:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16551386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whyyesitscar/pseuds/whyyesitscar
Summary: Emily's thoughts during the season 4 finale. One-shot, companion piece to "Giving Up" though it would still make sense if you didn't read that one.





	Love/War

> _each and every time I turn around to leave_  
>  _I feel my heart begin to burst and bleed_  
>  _so desperately I try to link it with my head,_  
>  _but instead I fall back to my knees._  
>  _as you tear your way right through me,_  
>  _I forgive you once again_  
>  _without me knowing_  
>  _you've burnt my heart to stone.  
> _ _(you say my name like there could be an us)_   
>  **-'melt my heart to stone,' adele**

John Lyly changed the world. He's not a well-known guy, and he probably didn't even realize what he did. But he changed the course of history. In 1580, he published a book called _Euphues_. It's been forgotten over the years—ask people to name an English playwright and they'll never say anything but Shakespeare—but it gave us a gem of wisdom that governs us even today.

" _Any impietie may lawfully be committed in love, which is lawless."_

All's fair in love and war, right?

It's something we all say when we want to justify hurting someone else. What they forget to tell you is that half of that statement is totally wrong. It makes love and war seem like two different things, when they aren't—they're the exact same thing. Love is a war; it is a battle between two people, each of them fighting to one-up the other in how intensely they feel. It is a struggle between those two people and the rest of the world, who cannot possibly understand what it feels like to be in love. Not their kind of love, anyway. It is a battle within us, fighting to overwhelm our entire sense of being. Love is always a conflict, always a battle. Always a war.

War, on the other hand, is always love. We fight because we believe in a set of ideals, because we love a particular belief. It isn't that we hate the other guy—if we fought out of hate, we would all be crushed. We wouldn't have any foundations because hate can't exist without love. Hate doesn't mean anything unless you compare it to its counterpart. If we want to go to war, we first have to learn how to love. When we fight out of love, we confirm that what we think, what we believe, what makes us _us_ , is okay. We fight out of love so we can show everyone else who we are, what it means to be us.

But letting yourself fight out of love—that's the tricky part.

" _I know you, Naomi. I know you're lonely. I think you need someone to want you. Well, I do want you. So be brave…and want me back!"_

/

Emily really wasn't a fighter. She didn't really like confrontation, and besides, what was the point in fighting when she had Katie? Katie had always fought for both of them, though she did so according to her rules. When that happened, Emily often got slighted. But she never said anything because she knew that it wouldn't do any good. The fighter that Emily wasn't was exactly the fighter that Katie was. She'd take on anyone who came in her path, including Emily. Emily didn't really mind—she couldn't fault Katie for being who she was—but she did learn not to get on Katie's bad side too often.

That wasn't to say, however, that she didn't know how to fight. Emily knew that if she really tried, she'd be a pretty good fighter. She figured it out when she ran into Naomi again at Roundview—suddenly she wanted to know everything about the blonde so she could defend her, sink her claws into anyone who was too stupid to realize what a rare person Naomi was. Emily wanted to learn what it was like to be Naomi so she could finally figure out what it meant to be Emily.

She became a fighter for Naomi.

Emily fought for them every day—at first, it was an internal fight. She fought against the demons inside that told her how hard it would be to love Naomi. The demons sounded exactly like Katie, but then again, so did Emily. It was hard to sort out who she was because she didn't know who her guiding voices belonged to. The fight against herself wasn't easily won because she didn't know if she really wanted to fight in the first place.

She stopped fighting herself that day at the lake. That was when she started fighting Naomi. Emily was fighting to make sure that Naomi realized just what they could be together, how extraordinary it would be. And when Naomi showed up to the Love Ball, Emily stopped fighting her. They were finally on the same page; they both knew that they were so much more together, so much better together. So much more complete.

That was the day she started fighting Katie. It was a violent fight—and she came away with the bruises to prove it—but it wasn't just physical. It was a battle of wills, angry lions rising up in both of them and vying for dominance. They fought each other with a glance, with cocked eyebrows and pursed lips. Nostrils flared and were answered by clenched jaws. Papers were torn, clothes angrily stomped on. Everything they touched became a casualty because neither was willing to give in. For Emily, it was more than that. It wasn't just that she wasn't willing to lose, but she wasn't able to lose. There was no way she could submit to Katie again because she had changed. She wasn't shy, timid Emily anymore. She was the Emily who knew what she stood for and how to stand up for herself. She was better for having met Naomi, and not everyone had caught on to that.

Unfortunately, it seemed like Naomi was one of those few. Naomi was still scared of them, or at least she said she was scared. It was an easy excuse to hide behind, which made it all the easier for Emily to see through. It wasn't a reason; it was a crutch. It pissed Emily off that Naomi still needed a crutch, so when she found out that Naomi had cheated, she knocked her down. Emily pulled the crutch out from under her and crushed it into a million little pieces, daring Naomi to put it back together. It shattered on the ground when Matt dropped Sophia's box. So did they. Emily left it up to Naomi to put the pieces back together. In retrospect, it wasn't the greatest thing to do—Naomi was shit at fixing things.

But Emily was tired of being the one to make everything better. She was tired of being the bigger person. So instead, she left it up to the one person who could make a difference because she knew it wouldn't happen. Emily had begun to fight Naomi again, but it was different this time. It wasn't a response to a specific event; it had started out that way, fighting Naomi for fucking Sophia, but that's not what it became. Emily was fighting _just_ Naomi—the very essence of her, fighting her soul. She was fighting Naomi as a person, daring her to change—no, _demanding_ that she change. They didn't speak for weeks, not unless they absolutely had to.

But they did everything together, Emily made sure of that. She wouldn't tell Naomi that it was time for dinner; she'd simply stand in the doorway until Naomi followed her. It was her punishment—if Naomi thought she'd been trapped before, Emily was going to make sure she really felt it now. For the first few days, the only time Emily was able to smile was when she looked into Naomi's eyes and saw pain. Emily wanted to make Naomi hurt just as much as she had that day on the roof.

It got old really quickly, though. Days passed and Naomi didn't do anything; she didn't show Emily just how much she cared. It all went to shit the day that Emily started caring again. They had just sat down to breakfast when Naomi realized that she had forgotten to put milk in her cereal. Emily watched her eyes search for the carton, eventually falling on it where it rested on the table—right next to Emily's right elbow, out of Naomi's reach.

"Could you—" That was as far as Naomi got before the lump in her throat cut off her words.

Emily passed her the milk. She didn't say anything, but her heart pooled somewhere between her knees and her ankles.

That night, she snuck out and went to some random pub, got completely trashed, and woke up in a house she had never seen before.

She hated it so much, she did it every night after that.

/

Sometime in between waking up that first morning and going to sleep the next, Emily stopped fighting. It was too hard to fight anymore, too hard to wait for something that might never come. The whole thing with Sophia had taught Emily that you really couldn't rely on anyone but yourself, so Emily did just that. She lived in the same house as Naomi, but for all intents and purposes, she lived alone.

She wanted to say that she was surprised to wake up and find Naomi in her bed, but she wasn't. It was such a familiar sight that she couldn't feel anything but the slight swoop of her heart at the sight of Naomi lying next to her. Even now, after Sophia and Mandy had happened to both of them, she couldn't help but feel comforted by Naomi's face.

Emily looked at Naomi, wondering how this person who seemed so confident, so self-assured, could be such a fucking coward. Still, Emily wanted nothing more than to drag Naomi into her arms, breathe in her shampoo, and comfort her.

Instead, she said the only thing that came into her mind. "I love you."

Emily expected a glimmer of happiness, some kind of sparkle in Naomi's eyes—but she didn't get it. Naomi looked at her sadly, like she was disappointed or something. Like Emily had just said the one thing she absolutely wasn't supposed to.

"Don't lie," Naomi murmured.

Emily could barely hear what Naomi said after that because she was puzzling over Naomi's words—she wasn't lying. Of course she wasn't; she'd always loved Naomi. She still did, and she always would. It was like an arrow through her thought, the possibility that Naomi didn't believe in them anymore. She could only hope that it wasn't true. It was the only time she had ever hoped she was wrong about Naomi.

After Naomi left, Emily couldn't stand to be alone. She'd been alone for too long lately. Maybe it was because she had pushed people away, maybe it was because they were smart enough to stay away. But she'd had all the solitude she could get.

She pulled out her phone and called the only person who could help her.

"I need to see you," she mumbled.

/

Twenty minutes later, two girls sat on a park bench. At first glance, you'd say that they were identical, but you'd be so wrong. Katie and Emily hadn't been identical for months, maybe forever. But right now, Emily knew that Katie was the only one who knew what she was feeling—she was her twin, after all.

"I can't take it anymore, Katie," she said, her voice desperate. "I just don't know what to do."

"Well then what do you want me to do?"

Emily turned to look at Katie. "I dunno. Could you beat her up for me?" she asked, only half-joking.

Emily caught the ghost of a smile on Katie's lips. "I don't think so, Ems. Maybe if it was a year ago I might."

"But she cheated on me."

Katie's hand covered her own, squeezing it lightly. It meant the world to Emily at the moment. "I know. But you cheated on her, too, you know."

Emily's eyes widened. Never in a million years would she think that Katie would be standing up for Naomi, and against her own sister, no less. "What are you talking about? Mandy and I didn't do anything."

Katie laughed a little. "Okay, I didn't say anything about Mandy. So first of all, barf for ever even thinking that girl was remotely attractive. She was, what, like, twelve feet tall?" Emily couldn't help it—she laughed. "Second of all, you don't need Mandy or even anyone else to cheat on someone. You broke her, Ems. You made her think that she wasn't good enough, when really she just needed someone to be there for her."

"How do you know that?"

"Because." Katie's eyes were sad and lonely. "You cheated on me first."

Emily squeezed Katie's hand back and rested her head on Katie's shoulder. "So now what do I do?

"Give it time, Ems. Just give it time."

/

In wars, there were bound to be stalemates, times when both sides forgot for a moment what they were fighting for. They knew they wanted to fight, but their reasons why had slipped momentarily out of their minds. Emily was at that point. She was at a standstill with Naomi, not knowing if she wanted to fight anymore, and certainly not knowing if they were both fighting for the same thing.

What they don't tell you about stalemates is that once everything is back on track again, the fighting is twice as brutal.

/

Emily followed Katie to Freddie's shed. She saw Thomas lurking in the shadows, and she thought that that maybe that wasn't such a bad idea. At least outside she didn't have to pretend to be happy. She could just sit outside and watch the world pass her by.

"Hi, Thomas."

"Hey." He paused and Emily listened to the night. "Never been here before. To Freddie's shed."

"Yeah, same here," Emily said. "First time for everything, yeah?"

/

It certainly was a night of firsts. The first time Emily had been to Freddie's shed, the first time she had been scared to see Naomi walk into a room. The first time she had to think before she knew how she was supposed to feel about the blonde.

The first time Naomi had ever told her how she truly felt.

Emily stood and watched her girlfriend pour out her soul in front of everyone. For Emily, the rest of the world had disappeared. She only had eyes for Naomi because this was what she was waiting for; this was that anything. Almost immediately tears had welled up in her eyes because the look that Naomi gave her—it was fearless. It was as if she was finally complete (either that or so fucking desperate), and the intensity of it took Emily's breath away. This was the Naomi she had been fighting for.

"I didn't want to be a slave to the way I feel about you…can you understand? You were trying to punish me back, and it's horrible. It's so horrible because really…I'd die for you. I love you. I love you so much it's killing me." Emily did understand, but it wasn't because of Naomi's words. It was because of her tears; because of the way she sniffled and swatted at her nose; because of the tickets she held in her shaking hands. She understood the pain, and the emotion, and the crushing need to get everything out.

Naomi stopped speaking and Emily realized this was her turn to pick up the fight. She couldn't hold back her tears, not even when she realized that, oh yeah, there were other people in the room. All she really wanted to do was swallow Naomi with her arms and never let her go. She looked over at Katie, making sure that this was the right time. She needed to know that it was now or never, that even if she waited longer, gave Naomi more time, she'd ruin it all if she didn't give Naomi an answer.

Katie nodded, and just like that, Emily's world was right-side-up again.

/

"Fucking _finally,_ " Effy huffed. Emily tightened her hold on Naomi, making sure that what she felt was real. She inhaled, letting Naomi overwhelm every one of her senses. She needed to know that there was no way they would ever be apart again even when they let go.

"Well, now that's sorted…let's fucking party!" Cook threw his hands in the air; Emily laughed and looked at Naomi, asking her silently if she wanted to stay. Naomi responded by twirling Emily around. Emily's heart exploded at the sound of her laughter. She hadn't heard Naomi laugh for months.

They fell into each other, stumbling back to the group. Cook was pouring shots and everyone was smiling. Emily suddenly found two shots in her hands and she downed both of them, ignoring the burn of the vodka because she had something to soothe it—five long fingers attached permanently to hers again.

"To Emily and Naomi—the only ones thick enough to forget how perfect they are!" Katie shouted her drunken toast and everyone laughed. Emily knew what it meant, though.

She caught Katie's eye and smiled. Katie mouthed _"I love you."_

It wouldn't have been right if Emily didn't repay the favor.

/

As the night wore on, Emily only got happier. She never strayed too far from Naomi; she made sure that they were always touching, whether it be a stolen kiss (which they got teased mercilessly about), or a hand wrapped around Naomi's waist (no one said anything about that). She had to keep touching Naomi to remind herself that she was allowed to touch her again, that there was no inner voice telling her what Naomi had done, creating pictures in her mind that she couldn't forget, no matter how hard she tried. Instead, the only voice was the one telling her that Naomi was the one thing she could never let go of again; it was her finger asking to feel the stray hairs on the back of Naomi's neck; it was her forehead pleading for her to rest it on Naomi's shoulder; it was her tongue telling her that it had forgotten what Naomi's tasted like, and if it wasn't a bother to Emily, it would be great if the two could be reacquainted.

Emily watched as Katie stepped outside to have a chat with Naomi. She thought she should be worried, but lately it seemed that Katie and Emily had switched roles—Katie had become more mature, and Emily had become, well, more…Katie. If that was the case, Naomi couldn't be in safer hands.

This thought was validated when Naomi and Katie came back in laughing and insulting each other. Everyone else might think nothing had changed, but Emily could see past that—instead of malice, she saw the gleam of accomplishment in Naomi's eye; instead of loathing, she saw friendship and a glimmer of pride in Katie's. Emily could tell the two were on their way to being genuine friends.

Katie stopped in the doorway and motioned to Emily—it was her turn now. Emily stepped out into the refreshing night air.

"You done threatening Naomi, I take it?" Her tone gave her away—no one in their right mind would think that she was serious.

"Oh, yeah," Katie played along. "Roughed her up a bit, you know. Told her to stay away from you and all that crap."

Emily laughed. "Thanks." The wind blew a strong gust and covered Katie's face with hair. Emily reached over and brushed a strand away. "You've been crying," she said, suddenly serious.

Katie nodded solemnly. "Yeah, me and Naomi have been having a chat."

"All in good fun, I hope?"

Katie scrunched her nose. "Well, I don't know if I would call it 'fun,' but yeah, I guess it was good." She looked at Emily with a smirk. "Let's just say I don't think I'll be throwing her against any walls any time soon."

"No, that's my job," Emily teased.

Katie looked disturbed. "Oh, I definitely did not need to know that."

"Seriously though—are you okay?" Emily's question was vague, but what she really meant was "Are you okay with me and Naomi?" She wanted approval from Katie because she had never really gotten it before—mostly Katie ignored their relationship unless she had a good reason to butt in.

Katie sighed. "It hasn't been easy for me, you know. I mean, people could totally think that _I'm_ the gay twin, and that would just be fucking uncomfortable. But," Katie looked as though she'd rather be doing anything else than saying the words coming out of her mouth, "you could do worse. I mean, I just want you to be, you know, happy. And if that means Naomi, I guess I'll have to put on a hideous pig shirt, won't I?"

Emily smiled, her heart swelling and breaking at the same time. "I think we'd settle for some happiness, that's all."

"Oh, thank _fuck_ for that," Katie sighed in mock relief.

"So what did you and Naoms talk about anyway?" Emily asked.

Katie looked at her a moment before answering. "Love," she said simply.

"Love," Emily repeated, astounded. "You got my girlfriend, who rarely even tells _me_ how she's feeling, to talk about love?"

Katie looked smug. "Yeah, I guess I did." She looked pained as she kept talking. "She's not…she's not a completely terrible person. I _may_ think that she has some worthwhile things to say."

Understanding washed over Emily. "You like her…"

"No," Katie immediately protested.

Emily continued to needle her. "Oh, yes you do. You think she's nice."

Katie crossed her arms. "I don't hate her," she said stubbornly.

Emily smirked. "Oh yeah? Why not?"

"Ems, she loves you, yeah? And you love her. So, if you love her, then…I love her."

Emily, overcome with emotion, could only throw her arms around Katie.

Katie was too trapped to return the favor. "Oh, fuck! What _is_ it with hugging tonight? I'm not Panda, you know. I'm Katie fucking Fitch—I don't do hugs." Nevertheless, Emily felt Katie's hands tighten around her back.

Emily laughed into Katie's shirt. "Who else has hugged you tonight?"

Katie pulled away, holding Emily at arm's length. She groaned as if realizing she had just made a terrible mistake. "I may or may not have been hugged a few minutes ago," she confessed in one big breath. Emily thought about teasing her some more, but instead she basked in the glow of unadulterated bliss. Katie looked at her appraisingly, waiting for her to say something. "Right, so we're going to go back inside, and you're going to cling onto Naomi because that's where you're supposed to be, and everyone else can go back to ignoring how sickeningly in love you two are."

"Katie," Emily blurted, stopping her. "I love you."

Katie smirked and opened the door. "I loved you first."

/

Emily and Naomi walked home that night, and Emily couldn't remember a time when she felt so free, so liberated. She held Naomi's hand the entire way; sometimes they skipped; they stopped a lot to sink into the bushes, or the grass, and just hold each other. Emily didn't think she would ever want to stop holding Naomi. Naomi's arms were the only place she felt safe.

It probably took twice as long to get home as it should have, but to Emily it felt like five minutes. She couldn't wait to get back inside and show Naomi just how much she was sorry, just how ready she was to start fighting for the two of them again. This time, though, they would be fighting alongside each other, and not against. They could conquer the world if they were on the same side, and Emily never intended to leave Naomi's side again.

Naomi got scared when they got to the door. Instead of letting it go, Emily acknowledged Naomi's fear, told her with a squeeze of her hand that she was scared, too—and it was okay because they could be scared together.

She was scared all the way into the bedroom, until they fell into bed and Naomi wiped away her fears with loving kisses and tickling fingers. She found Naomi again, remembered just why this girl was absolutely it for her. Their lips found each other and stuck, tangling together and fusing them into one. She found herself in Naomi's adoring gaze, in the smoothness of her shoulder blades—the smile on her cheeks and the warmth of her breath. Emily's soul wafted out of her and swapped places with Naomi's; they were a part of each other again, only it was different this time—deeper. They were one on a more sublime level.

In Naomi's touch she found the will to fight. Even better than that, she found what she was fighting for.

/

When stalemates end, they either end with surrender or destruction. One side gives in to the other, concedes to their demands. Or they get demolished, and the world is worse for its loss. The winners try to justify their actions.

"All's fair in love and war," they say. "We're not going to apologize. That's life," is what they really mean.

And that's true—in life, you always have a loser or a winner. There's no such thing as a compromise—that's just a loss for both parties. The same goes for love. You can't compromise in love. Because when you do, when you apologize or relent, you compromise your character. You lose a part of yourself. John Lyly had it right—all is fair in love and war. A double loss is fair because it doesn't favor anyone, even when you want it to. You can't have a tie in love, just like you can't have a tie in war. Because when you have a tie, you're admitting defeat. You're admitting that you don't have enough conviction to make the other person see your point of view. It's all fair in love. Anything goes.

And when anything went, Emily and Naomi rode it out. They embraced the feelings, even if they were unhappy ones. They accepted their validity—neither ever gave in, nor did they sacrifice anything. They lived together, argued together, melded together. They continued to battle for love.

In the end, it turned out that instead of battling for each other, they battled beside each other. They sized up the competition, smiled to each other, held hands, and stepped up to face the world. It demolished anyone they came across, their love. Sometimes they felt like apologizing for its intensity. But they couldn't, really.

After all, all's fair in love and war.


End file.
